“What the hell for?” J.R. asked.
“For the way he—they—believe,” Becky said. “They don’t follow the Bible so much as they do the revelations that Elder Brother has. He’ll just pop up one day and say the Lord has give him orders, then he’ll announce ’em and the folks go along with whatever he says.”
“That ain’t no reason for people to hate him,” Doss said. “As long as he don’t harm nobody.”
“He don’t do nobody no harm,” Becky admitted. “But it’s just the way him and his people believe. In the Brethren of the Communal Faith a man can have as many wives as he can support.”
“See!” Ben McKenna announced triumphantly. “Didn’t I tell y’all that?”
“He says it was one of his first revelations,” Becky said. “The Brethren has to multiply and grow. That’s the way he puts it.”
“What’s this Elder Brother’s name?” Ed asked.
Becky shrugged. “Elder Brother is the only name I ever heard him called. As a matter of fact, after people join the Communal Faith, he baptizes ’em with Hebrew names. Elder Brother says them old Hebrews was God’s first children, but they was disobedient of him, so he has abandoned all the Israelites. Elder Brother says that God has put him in Moses’ place.”
Buford was interested. “You say he baptized people with Hebrew names?”
“He don’t baptize ’em,” Becky explained further. “He anoints ’em. And he only preaches from the Old Testament. I was given the name of Hephzipah.”
Ben laughed. “That’s a damn good reason to get out of there.”
Buford was shocked. “Are you saying them Brethren ain’t Christians?”
“No they ain’t,” Becky answered. “Elder Brother claims they’re now God’s chosen people.”
“By heaven above!” Buford exclaimed. “Now I know what we’re doing is ordained by God Above. Hallelujah!”
Doss Kearns gave Becky a close look. “How come you run away?”
“I left ’cause Elder Brother had picked an old man to be my husband. The geezer already had two other women.”
“How many wives does Elder Brother got?” Buford Turnbull wanted to know.
“None,” Becky said. “Elder Brother says God has put him above the flesh so he wouldn’t have no particular women and kids to worry about. He also makes the people wear the same kind of clothes so’s the Brethren will all feel and think alike instead of disagreeing and arguing among theyselves. Nobody is supposed to be better’n anybody else. ’Cept for Elder Brother o’course.”
Buford Turnbull slammed his fist into one palm. “This damnable group of pagans has gotta be wiped away, boys, they’re a pox on God’s green earth.”
“Amen!” echoed young Zachary Steuben.
“So you left them Brethren, huh?” J.R. asked.
“O’course she did!” Buford exclaimed. “You cain’t expect a maiden like this to stay in that nest of heathens, can you? The child must have strong character if she broke away from ’em.”
“I didn’t run off,” Becky said. “They throwed me out when I disobeyed Elder Brother about that marriage he wanted to put me in.”
“It still speaks well of you, Missy,” Buford insisted.
“I don’t want to talk about it, please,” Becky begged.
“Well, nobody’s gonna try to make you,” Doss promised. “I reckon between what Ben told us before and what you said, we understand exactly what we’re doing now. I ain’t no real religious man, but I got to agree with Buford. Getting that gold outta Elder Brother’s hands has got to be a sacred task give us by God.”
“Amen!” Buford Turnbull shouted in agreement.
Ben stood up. “I’m glad that ever’body’s raring to go now. Let’s turn in early tonight. There ain’t no sense in posting guards neither since now I know for sure we’re out here all by our lonesomes. The nearest folks is them Brethren and they’re up that mountain a ways. Tomorrow we’ll pull the job and start for Amarillo. It shouldn’t take us long. Ya’ll will be home in a coupla weeks or less.”
“Ben,” Buford said. “Can I talk to you for minute? Private like.”
“Sure,” Ben said as the preacher took him by the arm and led him a short distance from the others. “What can I do for you?”
“You ain’t planning on bedding with that gal, are you?”
“I been doing it before,” Ben replied. “I cain’t see no reason to stop now.”
“This here’s a blessed task we’re on,” Buford argued. “And you sinning with that gal might spoil things.”
Ben was angry. “Now you listen to me, old man, I don’t let nobody spoil my chances when I want a woman, understand? Me and Becky are gonna use the same bedroll out a ways from the camp all by ourselves.”
“It ain’t right!” Buford hissed. “The Lord above will take his protection away from us.”
Ben thought a moment. He’d never been on a job that had God’s blessing before. He decided what Buford was saying might have some truth in it. “All right, Buford, we’ll use separate bedrolls.”
“And don’t do no sinful fornicating a’tall,” Buford commanded.
“Agreed.”
When they returned to the campfire, Buford called for attention. “Before we turn in, I’m gonna lead us in some strong prayer. I want to remind ever’body that we’re girding our loins for a sacred undertaking. God’ll be leading us, have no fear of that. Now bow your heads.”
The farmers from the Kiowa Flats, accompanied by Ben and Becky, adapted a prayerful attitude as Buford began his holy oration.
Chapter Six
The farmers, each carrying a set of saddlebags, walked as quietly as possible down the steep slope. They breathed with some difficulty through the bandanas they had tied around their faces. It was reality time now. all the calm created through Ben McKenna’s optimism and assurances had dissipated. Their eyes above the kerchiefs showed the growing nervousness as they exchanged worried glances among themselves. The final hour of reckoning was now at hand.
Ben directed them to make an enveloping approach to the mining area, closing in on the mine shaft while the workers were inside. The formation would scoop up any guards or loiterers who might be on the fringes of the location.
After arriving at the site, they waited impatiently for the Brethren miners to emerge. The initial nervousness had increased to strong sensations of apprehension. Fifteen minutes passed before two of the workers, each pushing a wheelbarrow, came out of the mine on their way to the sluice.
“Set them barrows down, you son of a bitches!” Ben ordered. “And get your hands up—high!”
The two miners, stunned at the sight of six armed men with kerchiefs across their faces, merely stared as if in a stupor.
“I’m gonna tell you one more time,” Ben warned, walking up to them. “Grab aholt of some sky or I’m shooting!”
They raised their hands. “What do you want from us?” one asked. “We don’t have any money.”
Ben reached out and tapped the man’s jaw with his pistol barrel. “We know what we want. Don’t you fret about that, feller. You just do like you’re told.” He motioned to Zachary and J.R. “Take these two over to the smelter and hold ’em there. If they start to act jack-rabbity and run, shoot ’em.”
“Right, Boss,” Zachary said, getting into the role of banditry. “We’ll plug ’em full of holes.” Unfortunately, the edgy squeak in his voice ruined any display of real bravado.
Ben and his homesteaders had to wait an agonizing twenty minutes before any of the other Brethren appeared. This time three came out of the shaft and were dealt with like the first. Doss and Buford took them over to the smelter.
“One more to go,” Ben whispered to Ed. Ten minutes passed and he became impatient. “Shit! I’ll go down there and bring that last feller out myself.”
Ed walked back to the smelter and found his fellow robbers making somewhat unconvincing scowls at the prisoners.
The Brethren objected to the sit
uation as best they could. “I told you there isn’t anything here that would interest you,” the taller of the group said. “We have no money and our horses surely are not worth all this trouble to you.”
“If you want the animals kindly take them,” a short, fat prisoner said. “We promise not to interfere in the least with your plans. We are men of peace.”
“You’re a bunch of heathens!” Buford Turnbull growled as his religious beliefs heartened his aggressiveness. “And you are doomed to burn in hell for eternity, you sinful rascals.”
“Take your outside beliefs and depart, please,” the fat one begged. “We want nothing from you except to be left alone.”
“Why did you come all the way up here to torment us?” the tall prisoner asked. “Can you not find enough devilment in your own world?”
“You and your fat friend should keep your mouths shut like them three other sinners,” Buford said brandishing his rifle. “We’re doing the Lord’s work, but I cain’t guarantee his mercy on you.”
There was a sound of rushing footsteps, and Ben appeared around the corner of the building, pushing the remaining miner ahead of him. The man was bleeding badly from a gash on the side of his head. After shoving the injured man in with his fellows, Ben motioned to Doss. “Let’s have a look-see inside this here smelter.”
“Right,” Doss said, following him through the door.
The loot was easy to find. It was bagged and neatly stacked in a corner of the smelter. Ben laughed. “I told you they didn’t expect nobody to come calling. They couldn’t’ve laid it out neater. It’s like they sent us an invite to come and take it.”
Doss picked up one of the bags and grunted. “Damn! This stuff’s heavier’n it looks.”
“It’s gold nuggets, my friend,” Ben said happily. “And gold is supposed to be hefty.” He went to the door. “Ed, stay with the miners. You others bring in the saddlebags and start loading up. The bags is gonna be a bit weighty, but our horses can carry it and us with no trouble. There ain’t enough for a pack train, but we’ll do fine, don’t worry none about that.”
The others filed in and immediately set to work. Ben watched them approvingly for a minute or so. “There’s rope down in that mine shaft,” he said, thinking he should have remembered to bring some. “Me and Ed’ll tie these fellers up and leave ’em down there. I reckon their friends’ll find ’em soon enough.”
He went outside to the prisoners. “Let’s go, boys, we’ll take you back down into that nice mine of yours and you can wait for your pals to show up and turn you loose.”
The six men moved sullenly toward the shaft opening as the McKenna brothers urged them on. The interior of the mine was lit by kerosene lamps set up for the day’s work, and captors and captives went all the way back to the end of the man-made tunnel.
Ben glanced around. “Y’all have managed to dig back a ways, ain’t you?”
The bleeding man, obviously the leader, turned to face his tormentor. “How did you know about the gold, Outsider? Who told you?”
“I’ll bet you’d really like to know, huh, feller?” Ed asked.
Ben, in an audacious mood, said, “Rebecca Morris told us.”
“We are not acquainted with the person,” one of the Brethren said.
“Oh, yeah,” Ben replied, “you know her as Hef-zee-pah.”
“Hephzipah!” another miner exclaimed. “She is the one who disobeyed Elder Brother and was expelled from the Faith.”
Ed was dismayed. “You shouldn’t’ve told ’em, Ben. They’ll be out looking for her now.”
Ben shrugged. “So what?” He turned to the prisoners. “In case you want to look me up, my name is Ben McKenna. I can be reached through my brother Ed here at his place on the Kiowa Flats south of Dodge City, Kansas.”
“Ben! Are you crazy?”
“Nope.” He pulled his Smith and Wesson Pocket .38 pistol from his belt and pointed it at the Brethren along with the Colt revolver. Then he began methodically pulling the triggers. The slugs slammed into the tightly packed men, bouncing them off each other and the shaft wall. They ended up in a bloody heap of humanity on the mine floor.
“Oh, dear sweet God!” Ed choked.
“Ever hear that old saying; Dead men Tell No Tales,” Ben asked, grinning.
Ed, his ears ringing painfully from the noise of the shots within the confined space, stared down at the pile of bleeding bodies. A couple twitched in the throes of the violent death. He turned his eyes toward Ben, close to weeping. “You killed ’em, Ben! Why? This is awful!”
“Now we got no worries, Brother Ed,” Ben said. “Nobody can identify us and nobody will know who to come after. Believe me, it’s the smart thing to do. I learnt that quite a while ago.”
“But…my God, Ben! This is cold-blooded murder!”
“Yep.”
Ed sobbed, “I cain’t believe what you done.”
Ben scowled. “You get ahold of yourself. Hear?”
It took Ed a couple of minutes to regain a semblance of control over his emotions. Ben looked at him closely until he was sure his brother’s sentiments weren’t getting the best of him. “C’mon, Ed, let’s go on up and join the others. And you back me up on whatever I say, hear?”
“Sure, Ben. I’ll do that.”
They went back to the smelter and found the others outside. “What was that shooting all about?” Doss asked.
“I just thought I’d throw a scare into ’em,” Ben said. “After me and Ed tied ’em up, I blew out the lanterns and cut loose with my shooting irons into the shaft wall.” He laughed in a giddy way. “Lordy! You shoulda seen ’em jump in the flashes of gunfire, huh, Ed?”
Ed grinned weakly. “Yeah.”
Ben glanced at the others. “Anybody see anything else you want? Nope? Well, let’s get on the trail to Texas, boys, and trade this here gold in for cash money.”
The farmers chuckled with relief that the job was finally done. They turned to the hard work of scrambling up the long, steep incline to the horses under the weight of the loot.
Ed stumbled slowly behind. These obviously weren’t the first cold-blooded murders Ben had committed, his mind told him. The realization that he now had enough money to pay off the bank was overshadowed by the more worrisome thought of wondering what Ben really had in mind for his friends—and himself as well.
~*~
Banker John Treadwell pulled back on the reins until the buckboard stopped. He stood up and looked around at the open fields of the Kiowa Flats.
There wasn’t a single sodbuster in sight.
He had expected more visits from the farmers and was not only surprised when they failed to put in another appearance at his office. In fact, he’d seen none of them at all; not even visiting any of Doge City’s saloons.
The banker had even prepared himself for further confrontation by obtaining a letter from the bank’s board of directors in Boston. The document would take the heat off him and give the farmers another target for their anger. Perhaps with such proof of serious intent to foreclose on those loans, they would cave in and accept the inevitable.
Treadwell took his seat on the vehicle again and turned the horse toward the church. If they were so set on trouble that they were ignoring their work, he was sure he would find them there. His mind could picture Doss Kearns urging them into some kind of action while Buford Turnbull prayed for deliverance from above.
But the churchyard was empty of horses and vehicles. Treadwell stepped down from the buckboard and walked around the building. It was obvious no one had set foot in the area for a week or so. He now doubted that anyone had even been there for worship on Sunday.
At that point, Treadwell experienced a great deal of uneasiness. Something was definitely afoot. The nearest farm was the McKenna’s. He thought it prudent to pay a call there to see if they might have possibly left the area or were planning some sort of resistance to the coming foreclosures. He almost hoped they did. That would take all the responsibility for the
trouble off him. The Ford County sheriff would be charged with calming things down.
A few minutes later he turned into the McKenna yard, and was relieved to see the Dawkins farm wagon in front of the house. Orvie McKenna was tending to chores around the side of the barn. Treadwell called over to him, “Hello there, Orvie. Is your father home?”
“No, sir,” the boy replied. He knew that the man was the cause of a lot of trouble, and he felt uneasy. He mumbled, “But my ma’s in the house with Missus Dawkins and Missus Steuben.”
“Thank you, son. I’ll just go up and say hello to the ladies.” He walked over and rapped his knuckles on the door.
Elvira couldn’t hide her surprise when she answered the knock. “Oh! Hello, Mr. Treadwell.”
“How are you, Mrs. McKenna?” Treadwell said, tipping his hat. “Is your husband home?”
“Why, no sir, he ain’t,” Elvira said. “Can I help you?”
“Perhaps so, Mrs. McKenna. Do you have a few moments?”
“I think so,” Elvira said reluctantly. “Please come in.”
Treadwell entered the house and nodded politely to the other women. “How are you, Mrs. Dawkins? I hope you are well, Mrs. Steuben.” He sat down on the chair Elvira offered him. “I was hoping to speak with your husbands, but I can’t seem to locate them.”
“They went off,” Mary Beth Dawkins quickly stated.
“Oh?” Treadwell responded. “May I ask when they’ll be back?”
“We don’t know for sure,” Elvira said. “They have some business.”
“In Colorado,” Edna Lee Steuben added, “Then Amarillo.”
“It sounds like quite a trip,” Treadwell said. “I just want to emphasize to them that it wasn’t my fault the bank is calling in those loans. And I’m terribly sorry about it.”
“It’s nice of you to say so,” Edna Lee remarked.
The Devil's Bonanza (A Piccadilly Publishing Western Book Page 6